


The best gift ever

by horseheadnebula



Category: Bon Jovi, Rock Music RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseheadnebula/pseuds/horseheadnebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas in the Grey Time, as Jon called it.  But things will get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The best gift ever

Here we go again. Three days till Christmas. Another holiday without him. Another time of people celebrating and me standing beside them, going through the motions, being there without participating. Another row of fake smiles, of insincere wishes, of singing cheerful songs when all I wanna do is scream.

That'll have to wait till I'm alone. All alone in the guest room I moved into, 'cause I don't sleep much anymore and I cry in the night and it wasn't fair to her anyhow. Can you imagine a woman having to put up with her husband first not being there at all, then coming back depressive and a fuckin' drunk, getting him through somehow, only to watch him turn into a heartbroken wreck? That's enough to make the best of them run for the hills, right?

But she's still here. I could be the bastard some people think I am and say it's all about the money and the lifestyle, but that's just not true. She's a real friend in need, she's putting up with all my shit and then some, without her I'd probably have ended my life like I wanted to, in that summer that will always be gray in my memory.

I should be happier now; I called him and we talked about getting the band back together and he agreed. He was happy, I could tell by the sound of that deep, velvety voice I missed so much. But we didn't talk about what happened between the two of us. It will be another couple months before we can get together to write or make plans, 'cause he's touring his album now and that's got priority for him. And ever since I know that there'll be an 'us' again, as Bon Jovi, I'm more miserable then before.

I'm scared of how awkward it will be to see each other every day, to write together, which always included sharing each others dreams and most intimate thoughts, to just be in the same room with him without being with him. Time heals all wounds? Screw that! Some wounds run so deep, not even an eternity could heal them. Nothing short of a miracle will do. To bad I lost my faith somewhere on the road.

“Jonny, we need to talk.”  
Oh, please, not now!  
“Dackie, I didn't sleep much...can't it wait?” I'm almost whining, but I don't care if she just leaves me alone. No such luck today, she's the poster girl for persistence really.  
“Now, Jonny! I can't watch you fade away like this any longer, we're going to talk NOW!”

She's pushing a mug of coffee into my limp hands and it's actually an effort to grab it. Sighing, she takes my arm and drags me into the kitchen, shoves me down on a chair and sits opposite of me. Talking about being manhandled- I'm pretty sure God's laughing really hard right now.

I drag my gaze up to her lovely face. She's such a beauty; not mere pretty, nothing fake, just a natural, beautiful woman. Why can't I appreciate it like I know I should? I notice the way she looks at me and it's strange. There's something in there that's sad and resigned and it scares me. Am I about to loose my last hold on what passes for a normal life, for sanity?

As I look at her, really look at her for the first time in months, I see that my behavior has affected her, too. There are fine lines around her mouth and dark rings under her kind brown eyes. Eyes like his....

“I've been thinking a lot about us, Jon.” I jerk myself out of the memories clouding my brain. Shit, I need to get a grip!  
“ And this is what I came up with.” she says and her throat is working like it's hard to press out the words. It's a déjà vu kinda moment, I know that look. In a minute it'll hurt, hurt like hell, hurt like my heart's shattering into a million fragments and I can't-

“Jonny! Jonny, breathe!” she commands and her hand is on mine, gripping it painfully hard, forcing me to listen and I do, breathing out slowly to stop myself from hyperventilating. It works for once, and when she asks if I'm okay I can nod and try to listen to what she's got to say.

“ I love you, Jonny. Always have, always will. But I came back to you 'cause I was flattered that you, who could have had every girl he desired, wanted me, not some playboy bunny but plain old me. And I married you 'cause it was so important to you, you were so ecstatic about it, and it's so easy to be swept away by your passion.” She smiles for the first time today and it's sad and bittersweet, but I find myself smiling, too. I'm sure it looks the same.

“And then you were back for good but you weren't the man I knew anymore. Your spark had died and for a while I was afraid you would die, too.” Her hand caresses mine now and I hold it tight, shocked. I never thought she knew.

“When you had dried-out but didn't get better, I knew there was more, so I wasn't surprised when you told me you are in love with- someone else.” Again she swallows hard and I feel like shit. Is there anything I haven't put her through? It had been the night after Richie had called to ask if he could use 'Rosie' on his album. The conversation was succinct, awkward and left me shaking. I fell straight into a bottle afterwards and she found me, crying my eyes out on the living room floor.

I told her everything that night, all inhibitions dissolved by the alcohol I had consumed and the overwhelming pain inside of me. She didn't say much then, just told me it was alright, and, no, she didn't hate me, which surprised me more than anything. We never talked about it later and I assumed she tried to deny what she'd learned. Guess that's one more thing I was wrong about.

“So, I asked myself, what do I want? The answer's simple; I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy. Obviously, neither of us will have that as long as we continue like this.” Her voice is strong now, she's certain about whatever she's decided to do. My hearts beating in my throat and I feel sick. “ Darlin' please...I'll get better, I swear! Don't...don't leave me, too!” I blurt out. She smiles. Smiles like I'm five years old and said something endearing but incredibly stupid.

“I'll never leave you, baby, unless you want me to. I still want to be your wife and have your children one day, it's just that you need something I can't give you. We've always been best friends and I'd like to keep it that way.”  
Holding both of my hands in hers, she looks straight into my eyes. Hers are sincere and loving. She takes a deep breath. I have no idea what's coming, I'm confused, scared and feel like I'm about to throw up.

“I'm willing to share you, Jonny. I love you too much to keep you from the one person who can make you happy, but not enough to let you go. This is what I can give you: A family, a home, an appearance for the public, my friendship. Everything else you'll have to get from him.”

There must be something wrong with my ears. I knew those damned monitors were to loud. She hasn't said that, no way, no how. If I felt sick before, I'm feeling like I'm loosing my mind right now.  
“Dot..I don't understand. What do you mean?” 

“You can have both of us, Jonny. I accept that I'll always come second for you, it's okay.”  
Hot tears prick my eyelids and as they start to flow I laugh. Yeah, going crazy now, I don't care. I laugh and cry and she's there as always, holding me till the worst is over and I can speak again.

“I don't know what to say but...it's too late anyway, Dackie. He's left me, there was no indication he'd change his mind about it in this lifetime. I put him through too much, there's no turning back.” I return her embrace, deeply touched by her selfless love. I don't deserve her and tell her so.

“Don't be an idiot, baby. You deserve much more then me and you'll have it. I talk to people, you know, and more than that, I listen. Richie Sambora is just as down as you, maybe he hides it better, but that's about all that's different.”

My thoughts are running wild, everything's a blur.  
Shaking my head to clear it, I disengage myself from her and get up. This is all too much. I need a run and a shower, need to stop thinking. Walking out, I turn in the doorway.  
“Thank you, Dot. That is the most generous gift anyone has ever made me. Even though it's in vain.”  
Once more she smiles that motherly smile at me, and I'm not sure, but as I turn back and leave, I think she mutters something like: “You ain't seen nothing yet.”

 

Christmas eve, and we've just arrived at my parent's for the traditional family reunion and collective church attendance.  
We haven't talked about her kind and crazy offer anymore and I'm doing my best not to think about it. It's too painful to dwell on 'what ifs'.I've tried to pull myself together these last two days and I think it worked. I'm still not looking forward to the holidays, but at least I'm here.

Greetings and chit-chat have been exchanged and we're about to sit down for dinner. Oh, no, here comes mom!  
I should've downed more of that gruesome eggnog. It wouldn't have gotten me drunk, but maybe sick enough to have an excuse to leave. Well, let's get it over with.

“John!”, She's the only one who can emphasize the nonexistent ' h' in my name, I swear.  
“Hi, mom. Great party.” My smile is as genuine as the color of her hair.  
“You don't look well, John. Doesn't she take care of you?”

“Yes, she does. That's why we're leaving right after mass. We've got plans tomorrow and he needs his sleep.” Dorothea says with a smile that's even more faked, if that's possible. She's appeared out of thin air to rescue me. A real friend,I told you. Wait, we have? Alright, not gonna let her down.

“Yeah mom, sorry, I just wanted to tell you. Kinda last minute decision.”  
Before she has a chance to start bitching, I'm using the best distraction I know.  
“Can we eat now, mom? I'm starving!”  
And so the night proceeds without any casualties.

Three hours later, on the drive home. I didn't have a chance to catch Dot alone all night, so I still don't know where we're going tomorrow. No time like the present to ask.  
“Care to tell me what you've planned for tomorrow, darlin'?”  
She looks at her watch and smiles.  
“Yeah, since it's actually today, I'll tell you. By the way, merry Christmas, baby.”  
I return the smile and kiss her softly. “Merry Christmas to you, too, babe.”

“Well, I thought you could use a change of scenery, so I booked a room at the Chelsea.”she says, as if that's the most normal thing in the world. I kinda like the idea though. No one will find us there. No unexpected visitors and cheerful phone calls.  
But, hold on a sec...”The Chelsea? The place where Sid Vicious killed his girl and Dylan Thomas drank himself to death? Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Okay, I sound not as jokingly as I intended to. Sue me. The scary thing is, it suits my mood more then I care to admit. It's the perfect place to be melancholic and write depressing songs of lost love, which is all I'm capable of these days. But I can't do that with her by my side, expecting me to be the loving husband.

“Don't be ridiculous, Jonny! All I thought about was that Dylan used to stay there, that it's a nice place for an artist. This is my gift to you; Go there and have time for yourself, write down what's on your mind and just be who you wanna be.”

I'm amazed at how well she knows me. But can I do this to her? Leave her all alone on Christmas day? My questions are answered when she speaks again.  
“I'll be at my parent's, it's alright. I haven't seen much of them or my friends lately, so I'll have lots of fun.” She obviously put a lot of thought into this and I am really tempted to do it. There's just one more thing.

“If I...if I need you, if I need...” I can't finish the sentence, I so hate to be this vulnerable, this needy. But she's the one person in the whole world now who understands. There was another one, who knew me even better, but he's gone. God, why can't I stop? My wife just made me a considered, caring gift and all I can think of is my former lover.

“I'm just a phone call away, babe, and you can come home anytime...if you want to.”  
She reassures me. Okay, I'll do it. There's something about the way she smiles now that is slightly unsettling, but I'm tired,maybe my mind's playing tricks on me.  
I tell her I love her gift and when we arrive home I give her what I got for her. It's neither considerate nor special, only something any self centered, unimaginative husband gets. She takes the Cartier necklace with a smile and another kiss.

The night was quiet and for once I could sleep. When I got up, I had the strange feeling that something had shifted, that my world had changed or was about to do so. I lost that feeling after the first cup of coffee and the first three cigarettes, though. Now I've packed the few things I'm gonna need if I'm about to hole myself up in a hotel room and I'm ready to go.

Dot hasn't really left my side since I joined her for breakfast. She seems to be nervous, but when I asked her, she just put it down to 'holiday anxiety'. Well, it happens, I guess.  
I don't even now how long my retreat is going to be, so I ask her.

“The room's booked for five days, but if you want to stay longer, that ain't a problem they assured me.” she says. “You should get going, babe, with the snow out there you can't speed like you usually do, and I ordered you something special for lunch, at around 2:00, you don't wanna miss that.”

Only now I realize that the world outside looks different. It must've started to snow shortly after we got home last night, for there are at least six inches of it covering the ground. First snow...used to be a reason to be a child again, to run out and start a snowball fight. Today, all it reminds me of is a giant shroud.

“You're right, I should leave now. I'll take the 'Vette, so I can't drive fast at all.” Like all good sports cars she's got rear wheel drive, and as powerful as it is on dry roads, it's a pain in the ass on snow or water. But I'll be damned if I pull into NYC in a fuckin' Jeep.

Out in the hallway I put on my battered leather jacket, and before I know what's happening, she's pulled me into an embrace so tight, I almost feel my ribs cracking. I reciprocate though, holding her for a long moment. She lets go just as suddenly, pushes me towards the door, opening it “Go, Jonny!” she demands. “Please, go now!”

Too stunned to do anything but comply, I grab my bag and guitar case and head out. I turn to say good bye, but the door's closed already. Maybe I should go back, see what's wrong, but somehow I can't. I'm done thinking, caring, worrying. I throw my gear into the back of the car, jump into my seat and get the hell outta Dodge.

 

This sure is a nice place. It's classy and cozy at the same time, something I haven't thought possible. At least, none of the thousand hotels I've stayed in so far ever managed that.  
The room turned out to be a rather large one, beautifully furnished in rich reds and browns, belle epoque mixed with modern designers. The effect is simply stunning.  
True to the season, they've put up a small real fir Christmas tree, traditionally decorated.  
There's a big leather couch, a floor-to-ceiling window and, best of all, a state-of-the-art stereo. 

That's unusual, even for a hotel that's used to cater to artists, so I have to check it out. Yup, a brand new Sony unit. The stack of cassettes beside it looks oddly familiar, though- they're mine!  
Dot must've set this up herself. But there's a few of them unlabeled and, curious, I put the first one in. Some chords, then the unmistakable voice of Robin Zander floods the room.

Oh, shit! Where in the world did she find these? That's a bootleg ,taken in L.A., at the Yamaha Soundcheck in '88. We'd been playing there, too, jamming and partying with everyone, havin' a fuckin' ball. Things were great between Richie and me back then; we were invincible, we were brothers and lovers...we were lovers...we...were...

Fuck! Fuck! It takes one stupid song to choke me up again. Ain't this ever gonna end? I reach out to press 'stop', but can't bring myself to do it. Memories are all I've got left. The next song starts, it's The Flame. The lyrics hit me right in the heart. Suddenly I'm so fuckin' tired of trying. Sinking down on the thick carpet, I let the tears flow.

The tape stopped a while ago, just as my tears. I feel completely empty, calm and exhausted. Remembering what Dot said about lunch, I check my watch. Shortly before 2:00, great! I get up and head into the bathroom, wash my face and look in the mirror. Bad idea, it's no pretty sight. Nothing I can do about it now, the bellboy sure won't mind. But the hair's a manageable mess, so I grab my toiletry kit and dig for a brush and a scrunchy.

Just as I fix the ponytail there's a rap at the door. When I get there, I search my pockets for a tip, absentmindedly opening the door. My eyes fall onto tight black jeans,scuffed black cowboy boots peaking out from underneath them. Strange uniform....As I lift my head a familiar voice says: “Jonny? What the fuck?!”

Suddenly the world is spinning- okay, that's it, losing it now. I'm hallucinating, I must be, there's no way he's standing there, looking stunned and gorgeous and....  
“Jonny? Jon! Hey, man, you alright?”  
Strong hands grab my arms. I can feel them, they're real. Oh God, he's real! Get a grip, Bongiovi, get a fuckin' grip! I close my eyes, take a deep breath and open them again.  
He's still here, he's HERE!

Somehow I find my voice and say: “Richie. That's...unexpected. Come in.” Way to go, Bongiovi. But it feels like I've jumped from a diving board; you know there's no turning back, might just make the best of it. Rich looks at me as if he's not sure about being in the same room with me, but steps in nonetheless. 

“Where's Dorothea? ” he asks, obviously puzzled. What? Why should she be here?  
“Dot? She's at her parent's.” I tell him, totally confused myself.  
“But...no offense, man, but why're you here? How'd ya know where I am?”

He throws me a funny look again and comes back with a reply that's so typical, I can't help but grin.  
“ Seems like we got lots to talk about, and for that I need a drink. Think ya can help me out?”  
“I don't know, “ is all I can honestly say. “I've only been here for an hour or so, haven't looked at the bar yet.” That earns me a look full of disbelieve.

Leave it to Richie to find it in no time. But he finds something else, too. There's a crate of my favorite red standing right next to the small fridge. He retrieves a bottle, two glasses and a piece of paper. “This is for you, I guess.” he says as he hands it to me. While he uncorks and pours the wine, I switch on the light and unfold the note.

It's very short and from Dot, of course. She tells me to enjoy everything the place has to offer and reminds me of our conversation What the hell? There's far too many open questions now, I can't think straight, I can't make sense out of anything. I'm terribly cold all of the sudden.

Richie has sat down on the couch, I join him there, wordlessly reaching for a glass. He gives it to me, leaning closer and when I take it he doesn't pull back but looks closely at me. Now, with the lights on, I have a good idea of what he sees. It's confirmed in his narrowing brown eyes, the way worry etches into his handsome face. I down the expensive wine like water and put the empty glass on the table, feeling the alcohol warm me a little.

“You guys broke up.” Richie says out of the blue, voice sad and compassionate. Great, another misconception. Sighing, I decide that enough is enough. This is the man I shared most of my adult life with, one way or the other. I'll just tell him. Leap, and the net will appear, right? God, I hope Burroughs knew what he was talking about.

“No, we didn't. I'm here 'cause Dot gave this...vacation to me as a Christmas present. Things haven't been too good lately and she figured I need some time on my own. Which brings me to the question how you knew where I am.” I probably left out some, but I think he got the gist of it.

“I didn't. She called me on Monday, told me you were really bad and she didn't know how to help you anymore, asked to meet me and talk. There was no way I could deny that, right? Since I just got home and she wanted to keep it from you, she suggested this time and place, so, here I am.” He looks really worried and I want to say something to make it better. This is where it gets tricky, though. How can I- Now it hits me.

“Wait a minute! Dot told you on Monday to come here? And told me only yesterday that she booked this for me?” I can't believe it. Surprise, understanding and amusement run over his features in rapid succession. “ Your woman set us up, bro.” he states, those damned dimples showing as he smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes though, they stay concerned, fixed on mine. I can't avoid that gaze, I missed it too much.  
Damn her for getting me into this!

“What's wrong, Kidd? And don'tcha dare say nothin'! I can see you've been crying.” With that he puts one slender hand against my cheek, thumb stroking gently over my skin.  
It leaves a trail of burning ice, my own hands curl into fists so tight, my short nails dig into the palms. I welcome the slight pain, it makes the one in my heart almost bearable. Instinct tells me to lean into that touch, to return it, to find safety in those strong arms again.  
Slowly, 'cause it's the hardest move I ever made, I turn my head away.

He backs off immediately. Blushing lightly he says: “Sorry. I didn't...But tell me, please, Jonny. Since I'm here and all...” His deep voice trails off, he shakes his head and takes a sip of the wine.  
I'm completely numb, except where he touched me. There the skin tingles like it's been connected to a live wire. He used to make me feel like that all over.  
Leap! I remind myself. 

“It was some old song, you know how I get. Dot brought some of my tapes here, among them were the ones we kept with us on the bus, remember?”  
His expression becomes dreamy as the memories show up in his mind. Funny, how I still can tell.  
“Which one?” He asks after a moment, so softly I almost miss it.  
“The flame.” I answer just as low.  
“Aw, Jonny...I'm sorry!” he breathes. What is he talking about? Can he possibly know what it meant to me? I can't take this anymore, I'm gonna do it; not a meek hop from the first board, but a swan dive from the highest cliff. And if it destroys what little chance we had, tough luck.

“What do you have to be sorry for? Walking away from me, 'cause we were both so kaput, so barely alive, we couldn't care for our selfs anymore, much less for one another? Or for my fuckin' pride, that wouldn't let me apologize for the way I treated you; once I found my way outta the bottle and could think straight again? What do you have to be sorry for, Richie?” My voice is hoarse and raw, I never wanted to say this, never wanted to see him flinch like this.  
There's a brief struggle for composure in his eyes, the desperate want to deny- and then it's over for him, too.

“I'm sorry for breaking my promise, Jon. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me most. And my pride ain't lesser than yours. Why didn't I call you? I've got lots to be sorry for, believe me!” he tells me in a voice that's just as emotionally charged. My heart aches for him, I want to be back where I belong, to comfort him and be comforted. I said so much, I can say the rest.

“It's true, I was bad for a while. Strangely, it got worse when I thought about the band. I have no idea how I am gonna work with you. The day she called you, Dot told me she ain't gonna live like this anymore. She wants to stay married, have children one day, but she said she don't mind me having you as well. Yeah,” I say at his shocked expression, “I told her, after we talked about Rosie and I had another breakdown. So, now that's sorted and it's too fuckin' late.”

Summoning up what little strength I've got left, I tell him one more thing.  
“I never got over you, Richie. I tried, but nothing's changed. You're still the one for me.”  
Okay, open the ground now and let me drop straight into hell. I don't care. I've said it. Now there's gonna be one final blow, and then....I don't know. Maybe emptiness for the rest of my life. I look at him, he's covered his face with his hands, long shiny dark strands hanging over them. He's so fuckin' beautiful. His head lifts, slowly, and he looks back at me.

“It's been two long years, Jonny.” he states.  
“I know. I told her; I know it's too late.” I whisper. He continues as if I've never spoken.  
“It's been two long, lonely years. Two years in which I tried to get over you. I distracted myself with everything in reach, I told myself it's for the best.”

He comes closer, takes my hand in his. I wanna pull away but he won't have it.  
“You're still the one for me, Jonny. No one could ever take your place. I cried when you called me, too. And these days I thought about Christmas past and was miserable when I got home, cause it ain't right if you're not there.”

Is this true? Do I really get a second chance? There's a million questions again, old hurt and new fears. I don't know what to do, what to think, how we-

“ Stop thinking, Jonny.” he says gently and pulls me into his arms. This time, I don't resist.  
I'm home. I don't know if it'll last or how it's gonna work, it doesn't matter.  
I'm home at last.


End file.
